


Limerence

by Ephemeral_Joy



Category: Anne with an E (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Art School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Anne's POV, Art, Comfort, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Fluff, Happy Ending, Idiots in Love, Photography, Pining, Romance, Social Media
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-30
Updated: 2017-12-29
Packaged: 2019-01-26 16:10:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12561176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ephemeral_Joy/pseuds/Ephemeral_Joy
Summary: Limerence(n) - The state of being infatuated with another person.Gilbert and Anne featuring paint, photography, mutual staring, glitter and a very supportive Diana Barry





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> disclaimer: I don't know yet how to insert pictures in rich text and even putting in links distorted the story so... it's just empty. But imagine very aesthetically pleasing beautiful nature photography. Thank you.
> 
> also in the beginning miss Kinley said they got one month to create something - it should be two weeks. My apologies.

Anne Cuthbert rushed into first period, long hair flapping behind her and bag on one shoulder. She was pretty sure her chemistry book fell out whilst she was running, but honestly – she couldn’t care less. She was late. She had a fight with Marilla this morning about the way she dressed, (“Those tight trousers-“, “ _Skinny jeans_ , Marilla!”, “-are indecent. Take them off.”, “Marilla! Matthew, please explain to Marilla that this is now fashionable.” “She is right, though.”, “For God’s sake – Matthew! You too?”) was stuck in traffic and spilled coffee all over Diana’s pretty, blue blouse. To say she was chaotic and flustered was an understatement.  
With a flushed face that could compete with her hair, she sat down in her designated chair of her favourite class. Art 2.  
There was something magical about art class. Perhaps she got induced by wet paint every time she was there, giving off the illusion that this was a splendid class, but she did enjoy it. Her teacher, Miss Kinley, was young and vibrant and had modern ideas about how art should be. She loved the silence, only the scratching of pencils on paper as background music. Occasionally, classical music played. But only if Kinley knew the principal wasn’t around. He was quite strict about that.

Miss Kinley gave Anne a pointed look before winking at her. Anne smiled relieved. She knew Kinley wouldn’t care that much, but she had still been afraid her reputation would be tainted. She wasn’t a slacker, just… late.

‘Okay,’ Kinley clapped in her hands, silencing the students, ‘this assignment has a two week deadline, and your theme is autumn – don’t roll your eyes at me, it’s cheesy, I know. But you can be very abstract with it. Make a video about someone jumping through leaves, paint a forest, make an animated short! Whatever you please. If you’d like to, you can work in pairs but then I’ll need a report of who did what. Everyone needs to attach with their piece the explanation of why they did what they did. You can use whatever you want from the supply closet. This project is very important, guys. It’s worth a lot of points. Any questions?’

Ruby rose her hand, ‘So, do we need to submit our assignment at the end of October or at the beginning of November?’  
‘Beginning of November, you’ll get a full month.’  
‘Does it need to be one piece?’, Gilbert Blythe asked, the boy who sat two seats in front of her, ‘or can we do something like a portfolio?’  
‘You can. But then there’s a risk not everything is great, so your grade will be lower.’  
He nodded, curls bouncing up and down.  
‘That report thing…’, Billy Andrews drawled.  
‘If you work in pairs, than you need to explain who did what and why you thought working together would be better than on your own.’  
‘Okay.’  
It stayed silent.  
‘Okay?’, Miss Kinley asked. The class nodded. ‘Alright. Start brainstorming.’  
Murmurs arose from all corners. Friends linking elbows with friends, people jumping up from their chair to take inspiration from the supplies. A few remained seated, like her. She preferred working alone when art was involved. Everyone had a different vision, so she’d rather follow her own than needing to compromise to someone else’s.  
She stared blankly in front of her, tapping her battered pen rhythmically. Come on, Anne. Find inspiration. Just… get in the headspace.

She locked eyes with Gilbert who was scrutinising her. She rose an eyebrow, as a way of asking him what his deal was. He got up from his chair and slid next to her.  
‘Don’t take this the wrong way, but your red hair is very autumn-like.’  
Art students were always a bit odd, she could admit that. But no one has ever made that comment. ‘Where are you going with this, Blythe?’, she sighed annoyed. He was interrupting her brainstorm time.  
That’s it, instead of painting a tree or landscape, she could just –  
‘Could you be my model?’  
She laughed. ‘No.’  
‘My idea,’ he ignored her neglection, ‘is a portfolio of photo’s that embody autumn. Your hair is the embodiment of autumn.’  
She narrowed her eyes, leaning forward, ‘If I model for you, you need to give me a tree from your orchard.’  
‘What?’  
‘What?’  
‘What do you need a tree for?’  
‘To make art?’, Anne drawled as if he was moronic. It agitated him. Good.  
He rolled his eyes, ‘My dad will never give away one of his trees so you can paint on them.’  
‘Fine,’ she said, intertwining her fingers, ‘no red hair for you.’  
He dropped his head, whispering profanities. She remained silent, waiting for him to either give in or leave.  
‘Alright, I’ll ask if you can have a tree.’  
She clapped her hands together, eyes crinkling of happiness, ‘Excellent! It’s a deal,’ she bit her lip, ‘we will need to make a report though. Who’s going to do that?’  
‘I’ll do it,’ he replied absentmindedly, typing on his phone away from Kinley’s view.  
‘What’re you doing?’, she whispered.  
‘I’m texting my dad…’  
‘What does he say?’  
‘He hasn’t replied yet.’  
‘Then what’s the point of telling me you’re texting your dad if there is no response?’  
He flashed her an irritated look, and she stared defiantly back.  
He had lovely eyes, the thought sprung to mind.

Suddenly Miss Kinley appeared next to their table, an amused expression on her face.  
‘Don’t kill each other, please. Blood is not one of the paint options.’  
Gilbert smiled at her, ‘We want to introduce a new art movement.’ Anne rolled her eyes, chuckling.  
‘I’m pretty sure that’s cannibalism,’ Anne said, ‘on the other hand, they don’t get enough recognition.’          
‘Maybe our subgenre could be Halloween.’  
‘Splendid.’  
Miss Kinley stared in shock as the smiley teens held their conversation. Anne was surprised how easily the conversation flowed. There was a connection. Anne, begrudgingly, felt. She had a feeling he’d keep her on her toes, if this partnership worked out.

*

‘You’re working with _Gilbert Blythe_?’, Diana exclaimed incredulously, clutching her maths book tighter. The small girl was slightly walking behind Anne, using her as a shield from the towering boys. Anne shrugged.  
‘Does Ruby know?’  
‘It’s not like I’m into him,’ Anne rolled her eyes. The entire Junior class knew of Ruby’s crush on Gilbert – except Gilbert. At least, he hadn’t made aware he knew. At parties, Ruby always tried to drink her courage to go speak to him. It never worked. Anne was glad boys did nothing to her.  
‘So, she doesn’t know,’ Diana sighed, ‘if she finds out, she’ll be upset.’  
Anne threw her hands in the air, exasperated. ‘It’s just a project!’  
Diana rose an eyebrow, finally walking next to her, ‘Where you’ll _model_ for him.’  
‘It’s not like I’ll be naked or something,’ Anne murmured, rounding the corner.  
Speaking of the devil, Gilbert was standing in front of his locker, rummaging to find something.  
‘Gilbert,’ she exclaimed. He turned around, surprised.  
‘What? Oh, hi Anne. Diana.’  
‘Has your dad answered yet?’, she knew she shouldn’t rile him up, but they only had two weeks! There was also just something about this boy that agitated her. His cocky smile, or the fact that he was a scholastic genius.  
He smiled sheepishly, shrugging his coat on. ‘No.’  
She straightened her back, nodding. ‘Well… tell me when you know more.’  
He nodded, and that was that.  
‘Why are you so hostile?’, Diana continued, once he was out of earshot.  
‘He’s just so…’, she huffed. ‘I don’t know.’  
Diana frowned, stopping at her locker and opening it. ‘Well,’ she dumped her book in, ‘if you’re going to work together, you better get along.’  
The girl placed a warm hand on Anne, smiling encouragingly before leaving her. Anne was in thought.  
She was intrigued by what he meant with modelling. Modelling fashion? Or more nature based? Would it be in sketchy locations? What would he use? Did he even have a decent camera? She bit her lip, reminding herself of Diana’s advice. She was going to have to trust him, they needed to ace this class. Anne Cuthbert didn’t do bad grades.

*

**Gilbert Blythe sent you a friend request.**

** ACCEPT ** **\- DECLINE**

**FACEBOOK CHAT**

**Gilbert:** What does the S stand for

 **Anne:** Shirley. Anyway, any news yet? I wanna know if the deal’s still on

 **Gilbert:** yep. My dad said you can have one. “to help the struggling artists”, to quote him  
that means you’re going to be my model

 **Anne:** I suppose so  
            Do you wanna make plans already or???

 **Gilbert:** Yeah let’s do that

**Anne changed the chat-colours to _orange_**

**Anne set the emoji to _*bumping fist*_**

**Gilbert:** was that necessary?

 **Anne:** Yes.

 **Gilbert:** when sre you free?  
*are

 **Anne:** this weekend, Sunday        

 **Gilbert:** ok than you can come to my house so  
you can pick your tree and we can brainstorm my photo ideas  
Do you know where it is?     

 **Anne:** yup. Never forget your 10 th birthday party

 **Gilbert:** ☹ we still have the barf stain of billy

 **Anne:** lol

In actuality, she has forgotten where he lived, but she wasn’t about to admit that. Besides, with some simple internet stalking, she could easily track him down. Just as she was about to type in the company of his father, her phone lit up.

 **Ruby:** YOURE WORKING WITH GILBERT  
            WHY DID I HAVE HEAR THAT THROUGH JOSIE??

Of course Josie told her, Anne grimaced. For some inexplicable reason, Josie has never been fond of her. When Anne had confronted her a year prior on the topic, Josie merely scoffed and brushed past her. (Well “brushed”, more so pushed) Although, she did accidentally spill orange juice on Josie’s pretty pink dress when they were eleven, but she can’t imagine she’d still be mad about that.

 **Anne:** Ruby you know I don’t like him. Nothing will happen.  

 **Ruby:** you will MODEL for him  
           what if I lost my chance??

Anne wanted to scream. Why isn’t Ruby telling him already? She’s gorgeous and smart. They’d look amazing together!

 **Anne:** You haven’t lost your chance! Just TELL HIM  
also it’s not like I’ll naked or smthing. It’s autumn. I’ll probably  
be wearing sweaters and jeans

 **Ruby:** I guess you’re right  
            I will tell him tomorrow.

Thank the Lord. Finally.

 **Anne:** Yay!!

With that, Ruby went offline. Anne sighed. She liked Ruby, truly, but she was high maintenance. Always needing help, always needing validation of others, it got quite tiring after a while. Nevertheless, she adored the girl.

 **Anne:** did you tell josie about gilbert?

 **Kindred spirit:** I did. I’m sorry.

 **Anne:** it’s fine. I just had a hysterical ruby to ease but it’s cool.  
            you’re still my kindred spirit lol

**Kindred spirit: :-)**

*

Interestingly, Gilbert didn’t live far away from where she lived. Merely five minutes by car. As it was a nice, sunny day, she decided to go by bike. It might spark some inspiration as well.

Driving on the gravelly road, she took in the house. It was just like how she remembered it. Old and rustic, but charming. It’s unlike the other new constructions that have been spreading through the town. If she turned her head, she could see the endless stream of rich apple trees adorning the fields. It was perfect. An excited smile, with teeth and all, formed on her face. Dropping her bike on the ground near the front door, she knocked.  
After a minute, there was no movement.  
She sighed, knocking again. She didn’t misread it, right? She shook her head. No, he agreed to meet up Sunday. If he went to hang out with friends, she swore she’ll –

The door opened, revealing an old, pale man wheezing.  
‘Sorry, to make you wait.’  
Her mouth quickly opened and closed, trying to look unaffected by the battered man in front of her. It was Gilbert’s dad. The last time she saw him he was a vibrant man with a spring in his step. She wondered what happened in those six years.  
‘It’s fine. Um – I’m here to see Gilbert?’  
He stayed silent, eying her features. Something seemed to click in his mind. ‘Ah, Anne! You’re the girl he’s doing the pro,’ he coughed, ‘project with?’  
She nodded, smiling.  
‘Dad!’, Gilbert yelled, coming from the back of the house. He must’ve been in the garden.  
‘What’re you doing outside? Please –‘  
‘Gil, don’t baby me. I’m a big boy,’ his father teased, patting his son on the shoulder.  
Gilbert pursed his lips, glancing at Anne. She looked at the ground, uncomfortable by the scene if front of her. This clearly wasn’t meant for outsiders.  
‘I ah, will leave you guys alone.’  
Gilbert nodded, a grim expression on his face. Anne felt scared. She only knew Gilbert as the smiley boy who sat two seats in front of her in Art, with the cute curls and dimply laugh. She didn’t know what to do with this version of him.  
The boy closed his eyes, opened them, and smiled at her.  
‘Wanna come inside?’

Anne had never been in Gilbert’s bedroom. At children’s birthday parties, it was usually held in arcades where kids get stuck in the tubes, or in the living room. Definitely when you’re a girl at a boy’s party – going to a boy’s bedroom was practically illegal.    
But she was sixteen now, it wasn’t that odd anymore. Only Marilla still had a problem with it. Anne rolled her eyes, remembering the amount of times she had to assure Marilla that no, they weren’t going to do anything sinful.  
Gilbert’s room was nice. He had white, arched ceilings and light blue walls. His bed stood next to grand windows, where stacks of books laid on the window sill and ground. She smiled at the sight of all the classics, Shakespearian plays being a recurring trend. He had an old wooden desk, with a red, plaid blanket thrown over the office chair carelessly. It seemed like he collected hats of all kind, as he hung them as an art display. It was cool. A simple lampshade hung from the ceiling, a comfortable chair stood in one corner. A guitar in the other.

This room screamed Gilbert Blythe, no one else could have this room.

‘I like your room,’ she said, smiling.  
He grinned shyly, ‘Thanks.’  
Anne plopped down in the chair, her feet bouncing up for a moment. He sat on his bed.  
‘So,’ she started, grabbing a notebook and pen out of her backpack, ‘what’re your ideas?’      
‘Um – yeah,’ he blinked a few times. Anne cocked her head. He’s probably still thinking about what she saw. She hoped he didn’t that she’d just exploit his business to everyone. She wasn’t like that.  
‘Gilbert.’  
‘Yeah?’  
‘If you think I’ll tell people about your dad. I won’t. I promise.’  
He nodded, visibly gulping. Gilbert scrutinised her. ‘You promise.’  
Anne smiled, holding her pinky finger out. He threw his head back, laughing and eyes crinkling. The girl grinned at the sight, glad to take his mind of the case. Eventually, he encircled his pinky finger with her own, shaking it.

‘Alright,’ Anne puffed, ‘ideas. Now.’

*

Anne was running late, her shoes untied as she sprinted along with the other slackers through the hallways. She groaned frustrated. She couldn’t believe she’s been late Friday and now Monday. She usually had perfect attendance! Anne had a valid reason though: Marilla had asked for her help in the bakery, as there was a sudden rush hour. Besides, Mondays just weren’t her thing. Diana, on the other hand, loved them. (“New week, new beginning!”, she’d exclaim.)  
Coincidentally, she crossed paths with Gilbert. He assessed her amusedly. She shot him her middle finger.  
‘Late again?’  
She scoffed, ‘Skipping school?’  
‘No,’ he smiled, ‘going to the toilet.’  
She intertwined her hands, ‘Good for you. I need to go.’  
‘Don’t forget Wednesday!’, he yelled after her. She threw her hand up absentmindedly.  
‘Yeah!’

Wednesday they’ll try to take the first pictures. Yesterday, after brainstorming, they went to a sunflower field a mile or so from Gilbert’s house to see if it was suitable for pictures. It was massive and breathtaking. Anne had wondered why she hadn’t seen it before. She had asked him just that. Gilbert had shrugged, telling her it was one of those hidden nooks of Avonlea.  
His concept for the pictures was “Magic”.

( _‘Autumn is the time when leaves turn into warm colours, when storms mingle with the sun, when magic happens. I partnered up with Anne Cuthbert as I find her appearance to embody this season. Ginger hair, pale skin – it fits the aesthetic of what I define as autumn. With her look and the beautiful nature of Avonlea, I want to show how magic happens when you’re not even paying attention._ ’, Anne had read out loud, reading his excerpt. Gilbert nodded, smiling expectantly.  
‘I like it. It’s on the verge of pretentiousness.’  
‘And that’s a good thing?’  
‘Like I said, the verge.’)

Anne took a breather in front of her classroom. Mathematics. Her teacher, Mister Philips, wasn’t fond of her, as she’d made it clear on numerous occasions maths wasn’t her favourite topic.  
‘Ah, Miss Cuthbert. Want to join class?’, Philips asked opprobriously. Anne pursed her lips, hating how everyone was looking at her. She didn’t mind attention, but not this kind.  
She shrugged, quickly going to her seat next to Ruby. Once he glared at her one more time, Ruby turned towards her excitedly.  
‘Hey,’ she whispered. Anne smiled at her.  
‘I’m going to tell him. Today,’ she said solemnly, eyes wide with nerves.  
‘That’s great, Ruby!’, Anne was happy for her friend. She hoped that once Ruby confessed, the girl would become hysterical about something else. Something healthy. Whether that meant she and Gilbert would be together or not, she didn’t care.  
Before Ruby could reply, Philips threw them a stern glance, a vein bulging from his forehead. They remained quiet, muffled giggles leaving their lips.

‘I can’t believe you’re allowed to wear off the shoulder tops,’ Anne muttered defeated, punching her salad with a fork. Diana gives her a sympathetic smile, patting her shoulder.  
Her best friend looked gorgeous in these tops, making the heads of boys turn. Sadly, Marilla wouldn’t let her wear these items, (“You would be practically bare!”, Marilla once chastised.) much to Anne’s dismay. All the girls at school wore them. Admittedly, she did think it wouldn’t suit her with her skinny frame. Curvaceous girls like Diana fit it. Anne couldn’t help but feel a bit envious.

A teary Ruby plopped down next to them. 

Diana immediately dropped her hand from Anne and embraced Ruby.  
Anne frowned at the blonde, ‘What’s wrong?’  
‘I told him.’  
Anne’s eyes widened. She had hoped it would end civilised, but it had seemed to go into heartbreak. Probably only on her side.  
Diana’s jaw dropped, eyes flitting to Anne for help.  
‘What did he say?’, Anne continued.  
‘He,’ she sniffed, ‘Well, he said he didn’t like me. Why doesn’t he like me?’, the latter came out too loud, attracting attention from nearby lunch tables. Anne glared at them, commanding them to look away.  
‘Oh, Ruby,’ Diana comforted her, ‘if he doesn’t like you, there’s another boy that’s going to.’  
Anne nodded.  
‘That’s probably true,’ Ruby said with a faraway expression, smudges of mascara underneath her eyes.  
‘He’s not even that cool anyway,’ Anne added, ‘you can find way better.’  
Ruby gulped the bile away, a determined look crossing her face. ‘You’re right.’  
Anne smiled satisfied and Diana seemed relieved to have dodged one of Ruby’s infamous tantrums. It wasn’t a sight to see. In her peripheral vision, she noticed Gilbert walking out of the cafeteria. She narrowed her eyes.  
‘I’m going to the bathroom.’  
‘Okay, we’ll stay here.’  
Anne nodded, leaving the pair.

‘Gilbert!’, she yelled, trying to catch his attention. He’d been walking in the hallway with Charlie Sloane, she supposed his best friend, as she had seen him with Charlie numerous times. He frowned at someone calling his name, but softened when he saw it was her.  
‘Hey Anne, wh –‘  
‘What did you say to Ruby?’  
He chuckled nervously, Charlie looked confused. ‘Well, news travels fast.’  
‘So?’  
‘Hm?’  
Anne groaned, ‘What did you tell her?’  
‘I told her I didn’t like her.’  
‘Like that?’  
‘Well – yeah.’  
Anne sighed, placing her head in her hands. ‘Boys are ridiculous,’ she muttered. She wiped the hair away from her face. ‘Next time you reject a girl, be a bit more sensitive.’  
He gaped at her, raising his hands in surrender as she brushed past him, back into the cafeteria.  
She heard Charlie chuckle.

*

‘Ah!’, Anne squealed, ‘this is such a marvellous place!’

It was Wednesday, Gilbert and Anne’s first photography trip. The weather was perfect, a cool breeze swishing the trees. The warm sun filtered through the vibrant leaves, and those who had already fallen, created a patchwork on the ground, waiting to be jumped in. She did. Gilbert laughed at her childlike manners, but she didn’t care. Autumn was her favourite season!  
The boy was walking slightly behind her, huffing at the large duffle bag on his shoulder. She was curious at its content, but every time she asked, he winked at her. Stupid boy.

‘We can stop here,’ he puffed, stretching his sore arms and rolling his shoulders. She grinned excitedly, dropping her backpack as well. A few days ago she hadn’t been feeling up for it. But now… it felt like the start of something good. Something fresh. Anne loved it.  
She turned to him, her smile forming into an intrigued one. There he sat on the ground, sketchbook balanced on his lap and pencil twirling in his hand. Before she could ask what he was doing, he read her mind.  
‘I’m trying to create the scene.’  
She nodded soundlessly, narrowing her eyes at the view in front of her. She didn’t know much about photography, drawing and painting being more her forte. She did know quite a lot about composition, that might make her a good contribution to their project though.  
She sat next to him, cross-legged. ‘What if –‘  
‘Sh.’  
She stilled, gaping at him incredulously.  
‘I have –‘  
‘Anne, please be quiet for a second,’ he murmured, eyes still trained on the blank paper. She huffed, standing upright. If he wasn’t going to listen, she was going to show him!

Taking tentative steps from his place, she stopped at around five meters, creating space. She stretched one arm upwards, tensing her muscles. She also raised one leg, tilting her body slightly as if she hung from a rope, like a doll. Like if someone cast a magic trick on her.

‘Gilbert!’, she yelled.  
‘What?!’, he exclaimed annoyed, raising his head. It remained silent. She withheld a smile.  
‘Keep that position,’ he said eventually, grabbing the camera.

After a minute or so, she heard clicking noises, shuffling feet. Suddenly, he stood in front of her, holding a tube of golden glitter. She rose her eyebrows.  
‘Can I dust it on your cheeks?’  
‘Will I die of a painful, devastating death?’  
‘No.’  
‘Then go ahead. I’ve always wanted to sparkle.’  
He grinned at the latter, placing his fingers on her cheek to get the glitter in the right spots. She froze.  
It wasn’t like she liked him, but she never had a boy this close to her before. (Well, there was this one time Charlie Sloane slow danced with her at a dance in middle school, but she’d rather block that out of her memory.) It felt odd, not awful, just… weird. Excitement dominated her emotions though, feeling delighted as she saw the sparkles through her peripheral vision.  
‘Tilt your head to the left. Yeah – a little bit more – Anne, other side. Perfect. Close your eyes.’  
She did as he said, the warmth of the sun caressing her face. His fingers tenderly pulled some pieces out from her two French braids. Anne felt for a moment that she wasn’t being photographed, princess Cordelia was.        
Princess Cordelia. That’s it! She made a mental note to add that to her ideas for her project.

‘You can open them again.’  
She smirked, looking straight into the hunter green eyes of Gilbert. They were pretty.  
‘I have some pretty good ideas, huh?’  
He flushed, embarrassment evident on his face.  
‘Sorry.’  
She rose her chin, ‘I will grace you with my forgiveness if you show me what’s in the bag.’  
Gilbert’s eyes crinkled when he smiled. She wondered why he didn’t want to be photographed as well.  
Meanwhile, he zipped the bag open, taking its content out. Straw hats, glitter in various colours, flower crowns, the plaid blanket from his bedroom, a bubble blower, fairy lights, camera lenses and other things she didn’t know the name of.  
‘This is so cool,’ Anne whispered, fingering the buttons on his other camera, ‘Where’d you get all this stuff?’  
‘I worked at the docks during the summer. It pays well,’ he said absentmindedly, deleting a few photos.  
‘The docks?’ That confused her. Gilbert was an artist, why would he work somewhere that sucked the creativity out of him?  
‘Yeah.’  
His answer was short and clipped. Anne realised this must be sensitive topic she set foot on, so she quickly backed off.  
‘Where are we going next?’

‘I worked at the docks because my dad couldn’t work for a while,’ he replied. She looked up, surprised. He started walking.  
‘Oh. Well,’ she sought a reply in the trees, catching up with him, ‘that’s really nice of you.’  
He smiled lightly, ‘Thank you.’  
She shrugged, avoiding his gaze, ‘Do your friends know?’  
‘Charlie does,’ he stopped her and went off the path. She followed. ‘But besides him you’re the only one.’  
‘You didn’t have to tell me.’  
‘I know. But I knew you wouldn’t judge me.’  
She snorted, ‘Like Moody and Billy would?’  
Gilbert chuckled, ‘Yeah – watch your step, you’re not afraid of getting a little bit wet, right?’  
Anne lingered on the question, raising one eyebrow, ‘What do you have in mind?’

*

‘Okay, last photos of today!’, he yelled enthusiastically, and she shot a thumbs up from her place nearly 50 metres away. The sun was setting, colours of the sky melting into hues of pinks and oranges and blues. Gilbert really had an eye for it. She sat on a higher point in a field, surrounded by wild flowers. Her red hair was covered by one of Gilbert’s quirky hats she’d seen when she first explored his room. A newsboy hat, that was what it was called, she realised.  
She liked the concept he was going for. A long exposure picture, with her as a reference to how small they actually were in comparison to the immensity of the planet – even to Avonlea. She was sure he’d get a good grade on this assignment.  
After ten minutes, when the light pinks were fading into dark blues, Gilbert plopped down next to her with a sigh. She stayed silent, letting him alone with his thoughts and in awe by the view.  
‘Thank you,’ he said eventually. She shrugged. ‘I liked it.’  
‘I could tell,’ he grinned, ‘I loved your tree idea.’  
She smiled back, ‘I almost fainted but it was worth it.’  
The conversation died down, but it was comfortable. The lush greenery, the sound of crickets and chilly wind filled the silence. It was nice.  
‘How late is it?’, Anne whispered. She didn’t need to, but the situation felt like it.  
He glanced at his watch, ‘8 PM.’  
Oh no. Anne chuckled bitterly, pushing the palms of her hands in her eyes. ‘Marilla’s going to kill me.’  
He frowned, ‘Didn’t you tell her about this?’  
‘I did, but not that it was going to take so long,’ without her intentions, it came out rude. He contracted, eyes casting down. Anne’s eyes widened.  
‘Oh! No – Gilbert, I,’ she placed her hand on his arm, ‘I loved this. Truly. It was one of the best days I’ve had in a long time. I had _glitter_ on my face. What more could a girl ask for?’  
Gilbert eased again, but guilt was evident in his eyes. ‘I’ll explain to Marilla why you’re late. It’s my fault.’  
Anne rolled her eyes. ‘I can handle her.’  
‘I know.’  
She pressed her lips together, scrutinising him. In the few days she hung out with Gilbert Blythe, he’d been full of surprises she hadn’t expected. Like now, he actually wanted to face the wrath of Marilla Cuthbert as if he was born to do it. She has lived with the Cuthberts for eight years now and she still had a hard time figuring out when Marilla was on the verge of exploding. Luckily, Matthew was always around the corner warning her of the foul mood of his sister.  
‘Let’s go,’ she sighed, stretching her sore legs from sitting in the same position for too long. He nodded, holding his hand out so that Anne can pull him upright.  
The girl rolled her eyes, ‘You’re such a baby.’ With trouble, she got him on his feet.  
She forgot to let go of his hand until they reached their bags.

*

 **Gil:** Do you want to start your project this weekend?

 **Anne:** YES i’m still working on the animation  
            but it’ll be done by then

 **Gil:** animation??

 **Anne:** i’ll explain at school

 **Gil:** ok

Diana sent her a text.

 **Kindred spirit:** ruby asks if you wanna hang out on friday after school

 **Anne:** where?

 **Kindred spirit:** at her house. she and I will be there

 **Anne:** cool. I’ve been wanting to try this  
            carrot cake!

 **Kindred spirit:** perfect! I’ll tell Ruby!

 **Anne:** <3

 **Kindred spirit:** <3

She got a notification.

**Gilbert Blythe posted a photo on Instagram**

**g.blythe** _“Use that prism-thingy!” – Anne_

Her jaw fell slack, staring at the picture. Purposefully, she ignored the caption. What she said was stupid, but did it matter when the photo turned out divine? She loved the cool toned filters he used and probably made himself. She was impressed by how he knew the sun and shadows would complement the picture. It just worked. Anne could see him move to New York or a place in Europe where he’d spent his days snapping pictures of anything that might seem ordinary to normal people, but extraordinary to a detailed eye like his.

 **Ruby:** ARe you guys together??

The message flashed accusingly on her screen, and she groaned. This is not what she expected as a reaction. Anne was lucky Ruby private messaged her and not commented it on the photo. That would’ve been embarrassing.

 **Anne:** no ruby. We’re not. Nor will we ever be.

The latter seemed a bit dramatic, not less true, but she had to convince Ruby.

 **Ruby:** sorry

 **Anne:** it’s fine

Gilbert texted.

 **Gil:** you’re fine with me pnig the picture right  
wow wtf *posting

 **Anne:** yeah, it’s really pretty :-)   
          I just need to bear Ruby’s insecurity alone  
          Don’t get me wrong, I love her.  
          But... yeah

 **Gil:** I get it. Sorry.

 **Anne:** it’s okay

*

‘Animation?’

That’s the first word Gilbert uttered to her on Thursday morning in English class. He’d slid in the seat next to her, which wasn’t his but it seemed like his curiosity didn’t care.

‘I make little animations on Photoshop,’ Anne admitted, cheeks reddening slightly at his awed expression. ‘I draw a bunch of motions of one character, and then I make an animation out of it. Kind of like stop-motion.’

He smiled, yet he frowned as well, ‘But what do you need a tree for, then?’  
‘Why did you post that photo on Instagram?’  
He narrowed his eyes, she crossed her arms.  
Diana entered the classroom.  
‘Now, Gilbert, you’re sitting in the seat of my bosom friend. You must leave now,’ she said solemnly, eying his with melodramatic distaste. Diana chuckled quietly.  
Gilbert lips formed an amused pout, standing up.  
‘You’re not normal, Anne Cuthbert,’ he put lightly, patting the chair.  
‘Thank you,’ Diana said, and Anne watched him go to his designated seat.  
Once he was out of earshot, Diana turned to her, ‘Since when are you acting like best friends?’  
‘We’re not,’ Anne replied immediately, ‘we’re tolerating each other.’  
Diana looked unconvinced. ‘Right…’  
‘Truly! When the project is over, I will probably never speak to him again.’  
Her friend cocked her head to the side, ‘Are you preparing your speech for Ruby?’  
Anne shrunk in her seat, not meeting her eye, ‘Just… don’t think something’s “going on”, alright? Because it’s not. And I don’t want to lose Ruby because of that rumour. There are already enough people online suggesting it because of the picture.’  
Diana scrunched up her nose in an unladylike manner. ‘Why did he do that, anyway?’  
‘He won’t tell me,’ Anne said annoyed. She hated not knowing things. Diana laughed.

*

Bye guys!’, Anne exclaimed, shrugging the Tupperware of a quarter of the carrot cake in her bag. The baking afternoon was a success, with gossip, you-need-to-listen-to-this-song-I-found moments and, eventually, the baking of the pie. She hadn’t tasted it yet, as she was planning to do so with Matthew and Marilla.

‘Bye!’, Diana yelled back from the back door, Ruby merely smiled.

Anne liked girl days, it took the stress of school and it was just a lovely time. She looked up, seeing grey clouds darkening the sky.

Miss Barry, the grandmother of Diana, passed her as she went to her bike. She probably went to pick up Diana, as they lived quite far, more towards the city.

‘Hello miss Barry – bye miss Barry!’, Anne said, kissing her on the cheek and immediately running again. The old woman chuckled. ‘Bye, Anne.’

In one swift movement, she took her bike and raced down the road, praying that she would be back at Green Gables before the storm erupted.

*

‘Ah, Anne! Lovely to see you again!’, John greeted her, holding back a cough as he let her in. She smiled at him, taking her utility jacket off and carefully placing it on the banisters.   
‘Gilbert’s at the supermarket but you can start if you’d like.’  
‘Thank you.’  
Anne had already previously picked out her tree. It was a large, old tree near the back of the orchard. Forgotten but beautiful. It had a chunky trunk, low hanging branches and big leaves. John was so kind to place a little table and chair near the tree for her to put her materials on.  
Her idea was to paint over the tree in an impressionistic style, like Monet, and then use her animation of the fairy princess to project on the tree and tell a story. Specifically, princess Cordelia.  
It was quite the challenge she made for herself, having sleepless nights to finish the animation on time. But she loved it. If she wanted to get into a good art academy once she graduated, she needed to be the best of the best. Places like Julliard didn’t accept mediocre people.  
Anne dumped her contents on the table, categorising everything in heaps. She loved building the momentum towards painting. Collecting supplies, creating the idea, mixing colours. The girl squealed, her fingers itching to begin.  
She picked up a brush.

A few minutes later (or hours? Anne didn’t know. She never had a watch on when she painted. The girl didn’t like knowing how much time passed when she was painting. It stressed her.) she heard a voice.  
‘Thought I’d accompany you.’  
She gasped as the sound broke the silence, her paint brush clattering on the ground and staining her shoe. Marilla would kill her!  
She snatched the paper towel from the table, dabbing the paint away. Anne looked up at him, seeing him slowly advance towards her.  
‘Sorry, didn’t mean to do scare you,’ he apologised, scratching his curls.  
‘Whatever,’ she mumbled, sighing relieved that the paint came off. She watched as he sat on the stool, placing his laptop on his lap.  
‘What’re you doing?’, she questioned, dabbling her brush back into the blue paint.  
‘Like I said. I’ll keep you company. I have to edit so you won’t even hear me.’  
Albeit loving the hypnosis she was in whilst painting, her mind took her from time to time to the boy behind her. Every so often she heard clicking. Anne was curious. Was he editing the pictures they took of her? Or something different? Maybe he was making another assignment. That must be it. Anne, she scolded herself, it’s selfish to think it’s about you. Although – she cocked her head, staring mindlessly at the tree – it would make sense.  
‘I can almost hear you thoughts, Anne.’  
She whipped her head around, French braids slapping her shoulders, ‘Are you staring at me?’  
He scoffed, ‘Of course not. I looked up and you were just staring at the tree.’  
Anne contracted, a blush forming on her cheeks. Right. She must’ve looked ridiculous.  
‘What are you editing?’, she blurted, her lips reacting before her mind. She cringed, but there was no turning back.  
He had a smug smile on his face she wished to smack of. He looked utterly handsome when doing _that_ with his face and it wasn’t fair. Why couldn’t she have his hair, instead of the flashy red. Or his eyes, hers protruding a bit too much for her liking.  
‘Your pictures.’  
She perked up, forgetting her insecurities for a moment, ‘Can I see?’, she took a step towards him.  
‘No!’, he nearly slammed his computer shut, keeping his thumb in between.  
She pouted, shaking his shoulders with paint smeared fingers. He didn’t seem to care.  
‘Please! I’m part of this too! And you can watch me mess up a tree!’  
‘You’re not messing it up.’  
‘Oh, I am. I made some awful colour choices on the branch there,’ she pointed at the green splattered branch, whilst her other hand tried to pry the laptop from his hold. He didn’t budge, watching her failed diversion with amused eyes.  
‘Anne.’  
‘Gilbert, please, I’m dying of curiosity!’, she leaned forward, inches away from his face.  
He chuckled, ‘Just keep painting.’  
She scrunched her nose up in disgruntlement, mock saluting him. ‘Yes, sir.’  
Anne paused. ‘Play some music, please.’  
Without replying, soft tunes floated through the orchard. She didn’t recognise the artist, but she liked it. It fit the mood.  
‘Play it louder,’ she said as the drums started to kick in, ‘I want to feel it!’  
He laughed, turning the volume up.  
With the music as her soundtrack, she finally found the right shade of pink.

‘Did you know that Gilbert used to pretend he was a knight?’, John Blythe laughed affectionately. Anne realised that his father had been waiting for Gilbert to leave the garden so he could talk to her. She figured he was rather lonely in the grand house, seeing him genuinely smile for the first of the three times she had been there recently.  
He’d reached out to her with a platter of tea and biscuits, and anecdotes of Gilbert. She happily took them, always a good idea to have blackmail material.  
‘Did he pretend he was King Arthur?’, she asked giggling, adding honey to her drink.  
‘Oh yes,’ he gushed, leaning forward, ‘he did leave the part out where he was decapitated, though. But he loved pretending to slay dragons, save princesses, like –,’ he paused, staring at her for a second. She edged forward, biting her lip.  
‘Well, don’t stop the story now. It was just getting exciting!’  
‘Like Guinevere,’ he continued, sipping his tea with a grin. He coughed.  
‘Guinevere was such an intriguing character,’ Anne sighed melodramatically, twisting the ends of her braid, ‘her bond with Arthur, but the affair with Lancelot. Their treason was the cause of Arthur’s devastating death. In one of the renditions I read,’ Anne babbled, oblivious to the amused smile on John’s face, ‘Arthur gave Lancelot and Gwenn –‘  
‘Gwenn?’  
‘Yes! Lovely name, isn’t it? A lot more original than Anne. Anyway, Arthur gave them his blessing, right before he died! It was a bit odd, but I liked it. Unconditional love,’ Anne spread her arms, showcasing the word.  
John nodded, ‘Don’t make your tea get cold.’  
‘Sorry,’ she took a sip, burning her tongue..  
‘Also, I like the name Anne. It’s classic. Reliable.’  
Anne smiled, ‘Thank you.’ Over his shoulder, she could see Gilbert from a distance nearly stumbling over an emerging root. She chuckled. John turned around, heaving in his chair.

‘He was never the most graceful.’

*

‘My dad embarrassed me, didn’t he?’, Gilbert asked, filling the silence with an I-knew-this-was-going-to-happen face.  
Anne chuckled, it echoed in the hallway. Zipping her bag shut and lacing her shoes, she stood upright. ‘Yeah. But he only told adorable stories of little Gilbert and his fantasy,’ she teased, wiggling her eyebrows.  
‘The knight story?’  
‘Yes.’  
He groaned. ‘Great.’  
‘Don’t worry,’ she took his elbow, ‘I’ll keep it to myself.’  
A grateful smile formed, ‘Thank you.’  
She nodded, letting his arm go. Hesitance hung in the air, but Anne didn’t know why. This is the part where she just left, right?  
‘So…,’ she lingered, ‘I’ll see you on Monday?’  
‘Yes,’ he perked up, ‘we’ll also need to set another date to shoot the remaining photos.’  
Anne frowned, ‘Weren’t we done?’ They’d taken millions and millions of pictures, why did he need more?  
Gilbert shook his head, ‘The portfolio is missing cohesiveness. I need a few specific shots.’  
Anne dragged her hands over her face, thinking about the big maths revision test on Thursday and the other assignment she had for colour study. Miss Turner was also expecting her country she was going to represent through a painting. She was still deciding between Iceland and Cambodia.  
Eventually, she complied. ‘How’s the weather on Monday?’  
‘Uh – good? I guess.’  
‘We will meet then, you take those shots real quick and then I finish the tree. Keep the sheet on the tree! Got it?’  
Gilbert smiled amused, ‘Yes mum.’  
The girl huffed frustratingly, turning around and opening the front door.  
‘Bye Arthur!’  
‘Fuck off!’

*

‘You spend so much time with that boy –‘  
‘Gilbert.’  
‘ –we hardly see you anymore!’, Marilla nagged, drying the counter. Anne bowed her head, staring into the pot of chicken soup as she mindlessly stirred it. She hated disappointing her.  
‘Sorry Marilla. It’s just such a big project. But once we’re done I’ll be home much more!’  
Marilla narrowed her eyes at her, ‘You’re not there to do other things, right?’  
Anne flushed, ‘Of course not! I would never do such things!’ That was a lie. She’s had a few secret boyfriends Marilla nor Matthew knew about.  
‘What’s that wonderful smell?’, Matthew’s voice bellowed through the kitchen. Marilla rolled her eyes.  
‘Marilla’s delicious food!’, Anne exclaimed, smiling cheekily at her adoptive mother. The woman huffed.  
‘Please, it’s what we always eat on Sunday. Anne, set the table.’  
The familiar clacking and ringing of plates and glasses became the background music Anne enjoyed thoroughly. Unlike many teens, she liked eating dinner with Marilla and Matthew. It was expected. Familiar. She felt safe.  
‘So,’ Matthew asked, dropping a piece of bread in his soup, ‘how’s the project progressing?’  
Anne tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. ‘It’s going wonderful! I’m definitely one of the more creative amongst my group – I heard someone made a _collage_ of leaves. I don’t know why he’s at an art school to be honest. Anyway, Gilbert’s pictures are divine, I don’t know how he does it, really. I mean, he just clicks on a button but when he does it, magic happens. My animation is also done, and princess Cordelia-‘  
‘I can’t believe you still use her,’ Marilla muttered, Matthew chastised her.  
‘- looks more than I could ever fantasised her to be.’ Anne finalised, taking a deep breathe, before focusing on Marilla.  
‘How’s the bakery going?’  
The woman smiled. ‘Good. After a rough winter, we’re back on track. I think it’s because of the new jam I’m using.’  
‘Or the berries that I replanted,’ Matthew quipped. He stared at Anne for a moment.  
‘Are you and Gilbert friends?’  
Were they? Sometimes she felt like they were, silences being comfortable and atmosphere enjoyable. They worked well together. When Gilbert asked her to turn her head a certain direction, she knew the hundred other implications that were hidden in that single command as well. He held her company during her painting session, and even pointed out to her when her hair almost got stuck in the paint.  
On the other hand, she knew how these projects went: you bond over your mutual appreciation of art (they studied at an art’s school for God’s sake), you make your piece and then you amicably part ways. Every so often you smile at each other in the hallway. And that’s it.  
Anne wasn’t sure if she wanted it to end like that with Gilbert.

‘I think so.’

After dinner, Matthew knocked on her bedroom door. She knew it was him, as he was the only one with loud, boorish steps.  
‘Hey, Anne.’  
‘Hi, Matthew,’ she rolled away from her desk where homework laid, and turned towards him.  
‘You were ah, quite hesitant to say he was a friend.’  
She froze. It was about Gilbert again. He didn’t seem to leave her mind alone, did he?  
‘Yeah, it’s still new.’  
Matthew chuckled, ‘That’s good. Making your circle of kindred spirits bigger than Diana is maybe a good idea.’  
Anne’s eyes widened. What did he mean by that? A kindred spirit was someone’s best friend, a soulmate. She knew Diana and her would be friends for eternity, but Gilbert? And she’d seen how Matthew sometimes teased her after she came home late from a photography session. She didn’t know what he exactly meant. She did know one thing though. She did _not_ like Gilbert Blythe.  

*

 **Anne:** what do i need to bring tomorrow? And do i go woith  
you after school immediately?  
*with

**Anne changed Gilbert Blythe’s nickname to _King Arthur_**

**King Arthur:** very funny  
bring/wear any clothes that have muted colours like brown, orange, pink

**Gilbert Blythe changed your nickname to _Carrots_**

**Anne:** i’m going to hit you  
you know I don’t wear pink

 **King Arthur:** you get it though  
and if you come with me we’ll be done faster

 **Anne:** okay 

*

‘Hey Carrots,’ Gilbert teased, mischievous glint in his eye as he bumped shoulders with her in the hallway. He was way to chipper for a Monday morning.  
‘Hello Arthur,’ Anne bit back, hitting his arm with her fist. He stared at her, unimpressed.  
‘Whatever,’ she mumbled, collecting her thoughts. After the conversation she had with Matthew, she’d been tossing and turning all night with only one thought lingering in her mind. Gilbert. It was annoying and ridiculous, truly. She supposed he had nice hair, and pretty eyes, but that was honestly it.  
She convinced herself that after the project, it would go back to the way it was before and those stupid, little thoughts about kissing the boy next to her will evaporate.  
Good? Good. Anne reaffirmed herself again.  
‘So, you’ve got all your stuff with you?’, he asked, getting back to business. Anne dodged a student, accidentally falling into Gilbert. He even smelled great, damn it! (She couldn’t quite pinpoint the smell though, as she quickly removed herself from his hold. But it was something tree-like and something she could only call “boy”.)  
‘Yeah, it’s in my locker,’ she quickly replied, ignoring the situation.  
He smiled hopefully, ‘Great. Ah, I need to go in here,’ he jabbed his thumb to a classroom, geography.  
‘Okay, see you in English,’ Anne bid him goodbye, and immediately got carried away by the arms of Diana Barry, her kindred spirit.  
‘Wow! What’re you doing?’  
‘Be honest. Ruby would hate it if you would lie to her,’ Diana quipped.  
Anne got a little scared by it, as her friend was usually Mother Theresa reincarnated.  
‘What’re you talking about?’  
‘Gilbert.’  
‘I don–‘, Diana gave her a suggestive glance, ‘truly, I don’t like him like that. We’re friends.’  
‘Very close for less than two weeks,’ Diana quipped, crossing her arms.  
Anne groaned, ‘It’s because of the art! We bond!’  
Diana sighed, stopping in front of her classroom. The hallway was emptying.  
‘Anne, please be honest. Ruby will never forgive you if you lie to her face. Do you like Gilbert?’  
She remained quiet, stunned by the question. She didn’t know.  
‘I… I don’t know.’  
‘Well, figure it out, before someone gets hurt.’ Diana ended the conversation, stepping inside her class and closing the door. Anne was late for hers again.

*

‘Okay Anne, you just jump around,’ he yelled to her, she on top of a hill a ten metres away. She nodded and quickly adjusted her flower crown. He took off the caps of the yellow and purple smoke bomb.  
Her smile broadened, laugh emitting from her lips as the colours reached her. She jumped through it, arms to the sky,  legs in odd positions, braids flying everywhere. He laughed along with her.  
‘Now stand still and stare ahead of you.’  
She obliged his command, eyes ignoring the smoke surrounding her. It stung a little, but she kept her stance. Anne saw how he was wildly moving the bombs around. She suppressed a chuckle.  
‘Great,’ he capped the bombs again, stuffing them in the duffle bag. She smiled, he looked adorable clicking through his photos, with curly hair covering his face. She sneakily took a quick picture with her phone.

She quickly posted it to Instagram. If he could post a picture, so could she.

  **Anne.Cuthbert** _behind the scenes_  
  
Anne snapped out of it. What was she thinking?! Gilbert did _not_ look adorable. She huffed defiantly. Get it together, Anne.  
Just as she wanted to descend from her place, she stilled. It was steeply-sloped and sandy, she already knew she’d fall without help.  
‘Uh, Gilbert,’ she cringed at the insecurity in her voice. She hated asking for help.  
‘Yeah?’, he mumbled absentmindedly.  
‘Can you– help me?’  
He frowned, looking up. His features softened at the situation.  
‘Uh– yeah. Hang on.’  
Gilbert stumbled on the hill, trying to keep his balance. He held out his hand. She stared at it for a moment. She was just going to hold his hand so she wouldn’t fall. Nothing serious. She’s done it before.  
She took it and step by step, so he didn’t fall as well, they got back to sea level.

‘Next?’, Anne asked, snatching her clammy hands back. She tried to keep herself from blushing.  
‘The flower thing I showed you a reference of.’

They walked in silence to their next location. Nature in Avonlea was extensive, she had no idea where they were going.  
‘You still need to do a lot?’  
‘No,’ Anne replied, ‘I’m still figuring out how high I want it to go – you know, where the paint should stop. Then I just need to make an installation of it. I think I’m going to make a picture of it and project it to the wall and place my animation over it. Perhaps in the entryway of school? When Kinley comes in, she’ll have the full experience.’  
Gilbert looked impressed by her ambition. ‘Daring.’  
‘I know,’ she grinned nervously, ‘hopefully I will not be expelled.’  
Gilbert rolled his eyes, ‘The principal will love it. Probably even call the news to tell them how devoted we are.’ Anne snorted.  
‘Maybe you will be able to display your photos in The Booth,’ she replied wistfully. The Booth was the student botanical garden where you could lounge. It was made of glass, and on invisible string hung pictures throughout the room. It was an honour if a student’s pictures were chosen.  
Gilbert shook his head, ‘No. Billy Andrews has better skills than me.’  
‘But he’s an ass.’  
He chuckled at her bluntness, ‘Yeah.’

Gilbert was caressing her hair. He was _caressing_ her hair. Stay. Calm. Anne. You’re a woman.  
His concept was simple. She’d lay on the ground, hair spread around her like a halo and flowers scattered on top of it. It was ethereal.  
She just didn’t think he would nearly lay on top of her to get her hair right, place the flowers and take the pictures.  
Her breathe choked whilst he was hovering over her.  
‘Sorry for the uh – position we’re in,’ he apologised, cheeks flushed and smile shy.  
‘Just take the picture, Arthur.’  
He straightened his back, knees at her hips.  
‘Look at the sky, not at me. Eyes wide and part you lips a little.’  
She did as he said. In her mind she looked ridiculous, but he seemed to smile, so she was doing something right.

‘Okay. Done.’ He smiled, lowering his camera. She smiled back, hoisting herself up.  
That was when she realised her mistake.  
Merely four inches separated their faces, his eyes staring speechless at hers. She knew what to do, but her brain was short-circuiting. She _should_ look away, she _should_ stand up, she _should_ keep the light friendship, she _should_ ignore this. 

But she didn’t. And frankly, she didn’t want to.

His eyes flitted over a her face, and she remained still.  
She gravitated, unbeknownst her mind, towards him. He edged closer.  
Until she processed what she did, and she casted her eyes down, shuffling away and up from the ground. Like she was supposed to do. Gilbert coughed, eyes unfocused.  
‘Okay, last picture?’, Anne blurted out, voice octaves higher than usual. He nodded, quickly picking everything up from the ground and continuing their journey.  
‘Where’re we going next?’, Anne asked again, anything to fill the awkward silence.  
‘Home, I want my last shot to be at sunset.’  
Her lips shaped into an O. She didn’t know that was part of the plan. It would be a sneaky coming-home-at-midnight-without-Marilla-getting-mad action plan again. She grabbed her phone, sharing the new information with Matthew so he could pass it on to Marilla. She could text Marilla immediately, but she knew the woman didn’t keep her phone in the kitchen of the bakery.  
‘Can I work on my tree then?’  
‘Sure.’ His answer was short and blunt. Anne balled her fists. She hated what she had just done. Their friendship has been so easy. But now…

She didn’t know how to fix it.

*

‘Anne, how do you spell “limerence”?’  
She frowned, looking over her shoulder to stare at his typing figure, hunched in the chair. They were in the same position as they had been yesterday, with her painting and him editing.  
‘Don’t you have spell check?’  
‘It’s a shitty computer. I can barely open a tab.’  
‘But you edit on it?’  
‘It’s the only thing that works.’  
She sighed, ‘L I M E R E N C E.’  
‘Thank you.’  
She continued painting, the clicking of his mouse as white noise.

She held her breathe, connecting the projector to her laptop she brought with her.  
‘Alright, moment of truth.’  
A quick tap made the animation start.  
She squealed, hitting his arm excitedly. He laughed.  
‘It’s working! It looks fucking cool!’, she wasn’t one to cuss, but this moment was worth cursing over.  
Her fairy princess Cordelia of Avonlea with golden tresses and purple dress floated across the tree, placing magic tricks on the apples of tree as they changed into flowers from the animation. It ended with Cordelia resting on a  branch, swinging her legs.  
‘You’re– it’s amazing, Anne,’ Gilbert whispered, close to her ear. She shivered.  
‘Anyway,’ she exclaimed, ‘I’m done. Can I come back tomorrow to take pictures and film because the light now isn’t great.’  
‘Yeah, sure.’  
The silence overtook again. She sighed. After the little incident an hour or two ago, things had lightened up, but there was an evident strain between them.

‘We can go for the last picture now.’  
‘Okay.’

*

Anne was in awe by the sight in front of her. She’d seen many sunsets, as a Canadian who lived in the middle of nature, but this topped everything.  
‘It’s gorgeous,’ she exhaled, lips forming an excited smile.  
‘That’s why we’re here. Take this.’ He threw her a small box. She caught it, investigating the content. Fairy lights. She was wondering when they would use it. For what, she didn’t know.  
She narrowed her eyes, trying to figure it out.  
He read her mind, ‘Wrap it around your neck a few times and then keep one end outstretched with your hand towards me.’  
The task seemed simple, but she quickly realised it wasn’t. She got tangled in the meters of light. He chuckled, shaking his head at her helpless expression.  
‘Wait.’  
He placed his camera on his bag and stepped towards her, adjusting the string. Anne avoided his eyes, not daring to look at how they lit up in the whimsical light. Behind her the colours melted into purples and pinks.  
His thumb accidentally brushed her jaw, ‘Better.’  
Anne gulped visibly, feeling her heart stammer loudly. Was he hearing it? She hoped not. God, what was happening to her?

_(“Anne, please be honest. Ruby will never forgive you if you lie to her face. Do you like Gilbert?”)_

Oh my God. She liked Gilbert. The realisation made her heart lurch and drop to her stomach at the same time. She felt dizzy, excited, happy, scared all at the same time, right in front of his eyes. He didn’t have a clue.

‘Yeah,’ her voice was hoarse.

She liked Gilbert. She liked King Arthur. She liked his dark curls that bounced around when he laughed, his eyes when he looked into the light, she liked his optimism, his artistic talents, his wit. She liked him.

In a swift movement, he took her braids out. She frowned.  
‘Looks better on camera.’  
‘Oh.’ She didn’t trust herself to say more, not knowing what she would blurt out instead. She was infamous for her word vomit.

He stepped away from her, waiting a moment looking at the sunset. She presumed he was waiting for the right moment.  
‘Okay, Anne, shake your hair, but keep the lights in place – yeah, like that. Don’t look at me, look at the sky. You can point at it if you – yeah, exactly. Perfect.’ He whispered the latter.  
When her arms began to cramp from the position she was in, he stopped.

Softly, he padded towards her, taking the lights from neck. Her eyes were closed but she sensed him.  
‘You can open your eyes, you know,’ he chuckled.  
She squeezed one eye open, staring right at his camera where the pictures he just took was displayed. She gasped. He hadn’t show her any of them!  
Her hands snatched the camera from his hands, zooming into the picture.

‘It looks magical,’ she whispered.  
‘Good. That was what I was going for so…’, he chuckled.  
She looked up, suddenly feeling immensely bad about the thing she did a few hours ago. She lead him on. She leaned in, and he just followed. Of course he would follow, he was a boy. She had to explain herself.

‘Look, Gilbert, I’m sorry about what happened when–‘  
‘Anne, it’s fine,’ he cut her off, eyes casting down to his camera, shutting it off.  
‘But Gil–‘  
‘Let’s go to my place, your laptop is still there.’  
She nodded, silently following him. She felt a splinter of her heart shatter.

*

_Autumn is the time my imagination blossoms. Leaves change into rich red and orange colours, air becomes crisp and clear – it feels promising. Magical.  
It was autumn when I got adopted, when I still had an alter ego to escape to when life became too much. Princess Cordelia. She was magical and pretty and perfect. She embodied everything I wanted to be. But now, she symbolises autumn. As I never forgot about her, I transformed her into a tangible character. Along with the animation, I painted over a tree in an impressionistic style. (Inspired by Monet) Together, they form a story about the magic that happens during the changing season. Instead of the cold draining the leaves of colour, Cordelia transforms them. It’s a comforting thought to think magical creatures in the woods are the cause of this season.  
The tree is from Gilbert Blythe’s orchard, my partner in this project. In exchange for the tree, I gave him my face that he used to make a photo portfolio. _

She supposed it was enough, and with a few tweaks, her report was done.

 **Kindred Spirit:** you like him don’t you?

Diana must’ve seen the picture.

 **Anne:** Yeah. 

**Kindred Spirit:** and???

 **Anne:** I don’t know Diana

Diana didn’t reply, probably sensing Anne’s discomfort. The girl truly didn’t know.

 **King Arthur:** when did you take that picture?

She let her head drop on her desk, headache that had been bugging her increasing. She didn’t want to reply. She just – she groaned.  
Anne needed sleep.

*

The last days went by quickly. She filmed her installation with his absence, they worked on their partnership report through chat, she did a decent job on her maths test, quickly made an Icelandic inspired painting, went with Diana to the movies and occasionally helped Marilla at the bakery. It was odd to not be in Gilbert’s constant perimeter anymore.

Friday came, deadline day.

Normally, students would just give their presentations of a stuck or in a binder. She, well…

‘Diana, is the projector correctly connected to my laptop?’  
‘Who do you think I am?’  
Anne chuckled, right. Diana’s main subject was graphic design. She was going to animate for Disney or Dreamworks in the future. At least, that was the dream.  
‘Thank you,’ Anne murmured, already displaying the picture of the tree. Students halted in their steps curiously. Normally, Gilbert would’ve helped her. But seeing their current relationship, that wasn’t an option.  
Diana, reading the underlying message, nodded, squeezing Anne’s hand. ‘It’s nothing.’

Miss Kinley entered the hallway, and Anne quickly started the animation. “Ooh’s” and “Ah’s” filled the room.  
The teacher locked eyes with Anne, who smiled cheekily at her. This wasn’t her usual way of going around things, but she needed to be seen.  
Charlotte Kinley advanced towards her. ‘Why am I not surprised.’  
‘I wanted to give you the full experience,’ Anne’s smile broadened.  
Kinley narrowed her eyes, ‘Do you have a video as well?’  
‘Yes,’ she replied, feeling the USB-stick in her pocket, ‘I will give it in class.’  
‘Well, be quick then. It starts in five minutes. Wrap it up, girls.’  
Anne exhaled relieved. She wasn’t getting a punishment.  
In her peripheral she saw Gilbert in the crowd staring at her installation. She ignored it. She had to focus.

*

‘Alright. People with a partner, bring your partnership report,’ Kinley said after the individual pieces were handed over. She didn’t show them, but she knew Billy had also done a photo repertoire, Ruby made a triptych of a landscape and Viola (the silent girl at the back of the class) made an audio-visual installation. But other than that, she had no clue what the others did. (Besides that one guy who made a collage of leaves; she was still confused what he was doing here.)

Gilbert went to the front along with a few others. She stared at his figure. Anne hated to admit it, but she had missed him.  
She missed the nights they’d just sit on the floor of his room whilst her paint was drying, talking about anything.  
Like his sick father or her adoptive parents, or the stress they got because of the impending future, or whether or not chocolate ice cream actually contained chocolate.  
She missed singing along to the music he would put on when she painted or in their treks to a different location.  
She missed the feeling of his hand in hers.  
Anne felt absolutely idiotic. What has this boy done to her?

He turned back to his seat, and she quickly averted her eyes back to the scratched up desk.

‘Take your books to page 127, we’re going to take a closer look at art works from the art movement CoBrA and make our own version of them,’ Kinley said absentmindedly. As Anne was doing so, she saw her teacher staring at Gilbert’s piece. She smiled.

*

 **Kindred spirit:** anne  
anne  
anne  
GOD ANNE ANSWER

 **Anne:** WHAT

 **Kindred spirit:** go to the booth. now.

 **Anne:** im at the other side of the school

 **Kindred spirit:** idc just go

 **Anne:** it better be important

 **Kindred spirit:** trust me

*

The closer she got to The Booth, the more people whispered around her. She had a nagging feeling it was about her.  
Her heart lurched, did her piece make it into The Booth? She quickened her pace.  
Anne opened the glass door, coming face to face with… herself.  
After a moment she realised those were Gilbert’s pictures. Of her.

She teared up, quickly brushing them away. She finally saw them.

The first was the one he posted on Instagram, with her between the flowers. It looked slightly different than the one on Instagram. Perhaps he edited it a bit more, or it was because of the glossy paper. She didn’t know. She didn’t care.  
The second was her like a rag doll in the woods, the third her smiling directly into the camera, pink glitter dusted on her cheeks. She didn’t know he would use photos that weren’t directed.  
It kept going, from her back to the camera with a backpack on her shoulders to the one where they nearly kissed. It ended with the last picture they took. The fairy lights. How she wished to turn back time, to not make it awkward.

At the exit of the garden, a small piece of paper hung. His explanation.

_Limerence  
(n) - The state of being infatuated with another person (or with nature, you can decide).  
**by Gilbert Blythe**_

She ran out of the garden.

He was avoiding her. She knew it.  
She’d seen the pictures right before lunch, and it was now the end of the day. Last class just got dismissed, and people were dispersing from school. She couldn’t let him escape. She couldn’t, _wouldn’t_ wait a weekend to see him.

It was quite the situation they were in. She liked him, but he thought he got rejected. Anne sighed. Aside from her adoption years ago, her life had never changed so drastically in such a short period of time.

She rounded a corner, one last try to find him.

She first saw his mop of curls.  
Anne halted in her steps. He was laughing with Charlie, careless. Anne wanted to back out in that moment. There were still a lot of people at school, he was busy, she could just… wait till Monday. She took a step back and bumped into someone familiar.  
‘No, you’re not going to back out,’ Diana said, crossing her arms.  
‘But.’  
‘No. Go.’  
‘And Ruby?’  
Diana smiled, ‘Don’t worry. Go.’

With the final encouragement of her kindred spirit, she paraded towards her target. Now or never.  
Charlie saw her first, eyes widening a fraction. She tapped Gilbert’s shoulder.  
He turned around and froze at the sight of her. Good.

‘Anne, I can explain–‘  
‘Do you like me?’  
He was stunned for a second, Anne saw Charlie slowly slither away.  
‘Uh – yes.’  
She smiled, slinging her arms around his shoulder. ‘Why didn’t you just tell me?’  
Before he could reply, Anne pushed her lips on his, and he immediately reciprocated, moulding his lips to hers. Her heart soared, her body tingled. She loved this. His lips were a bit chapped, but soft nevertheless.  
They separated, eyelashes brushing together.  
‘I feel like an idiot,’ he groaned, insinuating how he acted on Monday and the days after.  
‘Stop talking.’  
He grinned, cupping her jaw and connecting their lips again. She heard a wolf whistle behind her.

‘I assume you like the pictures?’  
She smiled, brushing a curl away. His hair was soft, and it was hers to touch.  
‘I love them.’

*

**g.blythe posted a picture**

  
  **g.blythe** _limerence ft. @Anne.Cuthbert_


	2. Two odd birds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One year after "Limerence", Anne and Gilbert have a lazy Sunday afternoon. Things get interesting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is just a short one shot that I thought of at like 1 AM and I started crying so I quickly wrote it on the plane home, edited it now and here. we. are. Enjoy the fluff.  
> -> This is, to clarify, not an actual chapter two, just another scene in this universe that I've created for them.

_"O’er the wild waters labouring far from home, for some bleak pittance e’er compelled to roam. Few hearts to cheer him on through his dangerous life, and none to aid him in the stormy strife. Companion of the sea and silent air, the lonely fisher thus must ever fare. Without the comfort, hope, with scarce a friend, he looks through life and only sees its end."_

Anne sighed, dropping the book on her chest where she left off. She was starting to lay uncomfortable, but she didn't want to disrupt the serenity by pulling her head from Gilbert's lap. She stared at his white ceiling, quickly glancing at him. He was watching a documentary on Youtube with headphones, so he didn’t clash with her reading. It was one of Blue Planet with David Attenborough, but after watching the first five minutes, she realised she’s seen it twice already and went to lay on his lap. A good book in the comfort of your boyfriend was a lot better anyways.  

She turned her head, now facing him. Gilbert caught her eye, smiling, and resumed watching. Anne closed her eyes for a moment. That smile. It still made her feel ridiculously happy, to a point where she wondered if it was healthy. She wondered if he had the same problem.

An idea sprung to mind. She picked her phone out of her front pocked, unlocking it.

'And here we have,' she exclaimed, pointing the camera to him as she filmed. Gilbert removed his earphones, smiling confused. 'A Gilbert bird in his habitat, it’s an odd one – quite rare too. The male Gilbert often has dark feathers and light eyes. It is the biggest dork in the wildlife, as he is incapable of fighting and rather watches the other birds. He often resides in his room or in the for- ah!', she squealed as he dragged her upwards, making he straddle his lap. Her knees sink into the soft mattress.

'What're you doing?', he asked, a glint in his eye as he intertwined his fingers behind her lower back. She lowered her phone and shrugged innocently, playing with the strings of his hood.  
'Being David Attenborough, obviously.' She was devastatingly bored, but it seemed like her idea had put a stop on that.     
He smirked, 'Change of aspiration?'  
'Why, Gilbert, can't I be an artist _and_ a biologist? I'd be the first! I'd be revolutionary! I can already imagine it!'

Gilbert's smile broadened, gripping her tighter. He looked silly with his curls bouncing and green eyes shining and she couldn't help but adore him even more. Anne leaned down, softly kissing his lips. His hands left her waist, fingers caressing her jaw and hair. It made her annoyed with herself, even after a year of dating this idiot of a boy, he still made her heart do somersaults like she used to do in the meadows behind Green Gables.  
Gilbert dragged her down, her chest flat against his. He lowered himself as well, making them both lay on the bed.  
Slinging his arms around her, he kissed her temple. 'I like you a lot more than David.'  
'You're ridiculous.'  
'I know, but you're ridiculous about me too.'

She was stunned for a moment. There he had her. Anne _could_ deny it, her competitiveness never taking a break, but here she was, comfortably laying on Gilbert's chest. Anne grinned, shy, and hid her face in his chest. He chuckled.

 

 

'Hey, Anne?'

'Hm?', she was dozing off. Laying with him on a lazy Sunday with the last warm rays of sunlight made her tired. She tightened her hold on him. He was always warm, she thought as she pressed her nose into his sweater. Whilst her fingers were usually cold (She didn’t know why – she blames it on her biological parents she doesn’t know the names of.), his were always warm. Her mind slipped to a memory of last autumn, when she’d forgotten her gloves at school on a particularly cold day and he’d been cupping them between his hands, keeping them warm. They had only been together for a month, and then it had felt too intimate. Anne smiled at the thought of how comfortable they’ve become with each other.    

'I need you to be awake, Anne.'

She cracked her drooping eyes open, staring straight into his. He seemed... nervous. She frowned.  
‘Are you okay?’

'I love you.'

Anne held her breathe as her gaze softened. He loved her. Gilbert Blythe _loved_ her. Meaning he loved every part of her, every crack and crinkle in her mind and body. That meant he loved her wandering thoughts and rambling, her intelligence, how she cared for him. He even loved her absurdly red hair. He loved her.

Oh my, she felt her heart hammer, no doubt he felt it too.

'I love you too,' she whispered softly, expressing every letter with care. She did. She loved his dark curls and piercing eyes. She loved how he made her feel, and his intelligence is one of his most attractive traits. She loved his artistic talents – her eyes involuntarily flitted to the slightly unfocused picture of her on his wall, where she was beaming at him with golden glitter dusted on her cheeks. She loved him. It was so easy, now that she thought about it. Like it was ingrained in her soul before her fingers felt the delicate etching too.

Gilbert and Anne beamed at each other, nudging noses and brushing lips. They took it slow, their relationship, but she had an inkling things might change now.

Suddenly, she shot up nearly slamming their teeth together. He groaned at the loss of contact.

'What?'

'The test for English! I said I was going to help you study but-', then he had dragged her onto the bed because he had missed her even though he'd seen her on Friday night when they went to watch a movie.

'I don't care anymore.'  
'Don't lie to yourself, Gilbert Blythe. You care a lot about school.'

He smiled, twirling a piece of her hair around his finger. Anne pouted, he was trying to distract her. Just because she knew he loved her (Stop blushing, Anne, you look like a tomato), didn’t mean he had her wrapped around his finger. Absolutely not.

'I have a compromise you won't be able to resist,' she exclaimed haughtily, chin up. He dropped her hair.

'Continue.'

'Every time you get something right, you can kiss me,' she sent him a brilliant smile, his eyes gleaming.

'Interesting proposition, Anne. Let's try that.'

Anne held her hand out, going to shake his hand firmly, the edges of her lips quirking upwards. He grabbed her hand, and a second later pulled her towards him, capturing her again.

'Gilbert!'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My Tumblr is http://stydiahasconquered.tumblr.com/ so if you want to you can scream at me over there :) :) :)

**Author's Note:**

> Can you believe I didn't use a song lyric/book quote for a story? Wild.


End file.
